


Flytrap

by gutturalmess



Series: Deleted Scenes [3]
Category: CodotVerse, DC - Fandom, DCU
Genre: And therefore honour-bound to fuck up stupid boys, But she's also a Siren, F/M, Harkness is a very willing sub in this 'Verse so there's that, Pamela is most definitely a lesbian, Sex as violence, Sex ≠ Love, Tread Lightly (a Pamela Isley tag)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 09:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15215717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutturalmess/pseuds/gutturalmess
Summary: George Harkness simply does not know when to stop; he needs to be taught a lesson.





	Flytrap

**Author's Note:**

> Specific characterisations of these characters belong to the CodotVerse.

As Selena blew down kisses from the vents, Harley and Pamela smiled and waved goodbye as she took off again. Harley stretched, making her scrubs ride up and expose her stomach.  
“Bedtime, I think,” she said with a yawn. “Since I’m out anyway, I’m gonna go snuggle up with Mistah J in the infirmary. How ‘bout you?”  
“Greenhouse, of course; gonna sleep with my babies.”  
“Happy trails then,” Harley beamed, waving and skipping down the hall to the infirmary; Pamela kissed her fingers, waved them after her then turned to make her way to her greenhouse. The door was never locked since the plants could take care of themselves. They parted as Pamela walked in, humming to herself. She sat the pot plant back down among the others and took off her scrubs, tossing them aside; the plants didn’t need clothes, and neither did she. With a sigh, she climbed into her hammock and relaxed into it. Sensing her contentment, vines reached down to get closer to her and caress her skin; she smiled and closed her eyes, soothed by the sound of rustling leaves.

Whether it was the plants rustling or some kind of extrasensory perception, Pamela awoke. She didn’t have to look long to see the source of her sleep disturbance; George Harkness was watching her. He had one hand pressed against the glass, and the other was in his pants, jerking himself off. Pamela blinked at him sleepily, her expression unchanged.  
“How’d you manage to get into this wing?” She asked, only half-interested in the answer.  
“I’m a ninja, baby,” Harkness grinned. “Bars can’t hold me.”  
Pamela clasped her hands to rest on her stomach, amused.  
“Foolish creature,” she murmured. “Why are you here?”  
“They said you slept naked, but I had to see for myself,” Harkness said. “I can’t believe it was true; so fuckin’ hot.”  
“What else did they tell you about me?” Pamela asked, making no attempt to cover herself.  
“You’re a tough one to catch,” Harkness said. “Ice maiden.”  
“For every lock, there’s a key,” sighed Pamela. “Christ. If only someone planted a tree for every time a man waved his dick at me...”  
“I see ya lookin’. Like what ya see?” Harkness asked, grinning and still jacking himself.  
“Nope,” Pamela said, face still perfectly impassive. Harkness grinned, seemingly immune to her scorn.  
“Sure ya don’t. How ‘bout you let me in? The things I could do to ya, Pam…”  
“Alright,” Pamela said after a moment’s thought, lifting her head. “You’ll find the door unlocked. Maybe I’ll like you better, up close.”  
“Really?”  
“Really,” Pamela purred, beckoning him with one finger. With ill-restrained glee, Harkness opened the door to her greenhouse, stepping inside with his dick still in his hand. As he approached her, Pamela narrowed her eyes and extended one arm; vines flew out from behind her and latched onto Harkness’ wrists and ankles, dragging out his arms and holding him taut in the shape of a T; his pants fell down to his ankles. Harkness’ eyes widened as Pamela smiled and hoisted herself up off the hammock. 

“You should have relied on your basic animal instincts…” she said, walking towards him. “Stupid toy soldier can’t even smell a trap.”  
“Honeytrap,” Harkness grinned. “Gonna have your wicked way with me, are ya? Told ya I’d straighten you out.”  
“And you still don’t know that you’ve lost,” Pamela laughed. “I did tell you that I wasn’t interested,” she said, walking around him. “If the guards hadn’t stopped me, I’d have beaten you until you were pissing blood.”  
“Couldn’t help myself,” Harkness said. “I see a spunk, I gotta try my luck,” he smirked. “Call it my weakness.”  
“I’m sure I can find a bigger weakness,” Pamela said. “What’s it gonna take to get a lesson in through that thick skull - a sound beating, perhaps. Or, I could torture you - and not have to even put a hand on you.”  
Harkness looked up at her, dick still hard and twitching.  
“Yeah. Torture me. Punish me,” he said, voice soft; Pamela tilted her head.  
“Punish you?”  
“Yeah,” he said. “Hurt me, Pammy.”

Pamela lifted a hand and struck him backhanded across the face, splitting his lip and drawing blood; Harkness licked it off and sucked his lip back.  
“That’s Dr. Isley to you, you pathetic man,” Pamela hissed. “Say it,” she reached up and dragged his head backward by the hair, scratching his scalp with her nails; he moaned.  
“Yes, Dr. Isley,” he whimpered.  
“That’s better,” she said, beckoning to another vine with her index finger. “You need to learn that your place is on your knees.”  
The vine coiled around his neck, tight enough to constrict while still allowing him to breathe. Pamela gestured to the two vines that held his ankles, which dragged him down to his knees at her feet.  
“Helluva view,” he grinned, looking up at her; her lip curled. The vine around his neck tightened, cutting off his air supply. Harkness’ eyelids fluttered; his cock jerked.  
“You’ll learn, or you’ll die trying,” she hissed. “Nod if you’d prefer to keep breathing.”  
With some effort he managed to give her the barest of nods, and the pressure eased.  
“Well,” she said, looking down at his leaking cock with distaste; she poked her fingers against the back of his head and pushed it down so that he could see. “The fuck am I going to do with you, huh?”  
“Whatever you want, Dr. Isley,” Harkness said, licking his bleeding lip.  
“Witless boy,” Pamela laughed, turning away. “I should kill you.”  
“You could, Dr. Isley. If you wanted.”  
“Not if you’re going to be so docile,” she sneered, turning back. “There’s no fun in that.”  
“Then you could get close to killin’ me, Dr. Isley,” Harkness’ eyes gleamed.  
“Possibly.” Pamela looked down at his cock and shook her head. “That’s the second dick I’ve seen tonight - and I’m not impressed by either of them.”  
“Was he bigger than me, Dr. Isley?” Harkness sad, tilting his head to run his eyes over her.  
“No,” she said honestly. “But some friends of mine did teach me a trick or two in how to deal with silly little boys like you.”  
“Kyle and Quinn?”  
“Not your concern.”  
Harkness grinned, licking his lips. “I’ve heard stories about them, too. Whatever they taught ya - I hope it hurts, Dr. Isley,” he said.  
“So do I,” Pamela said. “Now open your mouth.”  
Dutifully, Harkness did so; Pamela beckoned behind her with one hand and a vine thinner than the rest curled over her shoulder and into his mouth. Confused, Harkness blinked at her; she smiled.  
“Make it wet,” she said. Growling with approval, he sucked on the the vine with unrestrained glee; it pulled out of his mouth with a soft pop. Raising an eyebrow, Pamela jerked her head in the direction of his crotch. Harkness followed her gaze, his breath catching in his throat.  
“Oh God,” he said, looking up at her. “What are you going to do, Dr. Isley?”  
“You’re so lucky,” Pamela purred. “My dear friends put me in such a good mood. If they hadn’t, well…”  
“Well what, Dr. Isley?”  
“You’d be dead,” Pamela smiled slowly, showing her teeth. “Instead, I’m gonna give you a little something you deserve,” she said; he whimpered. 

They both watched the vine move down, Pamela with academic interest and Harkness with ill-concealed fear married with lust.  
“You need to understand,” she said softly, “that no one cares about your dick but you.”  
“Y-yes, Dr. Isley,” he stammered.  
“Now do tell the doctor if this hurts,” Pamela hissed. “And maybe I’ll pretend like I give a damn.”  
As the vine penetrated his urethra Harkness threw his head back, eyes rolling; a ragged groan ripped from his throat.  
“Oh my fuckin’ God,” he moaned, head dropping down to watch the vine as it moved up and down the inside shaft. Pamela watched with amusement as his mouth fell open in disbelief.  
“The girls called this sounding,” she said, watching his body twist fruitlessly against the foreign invader. “They said you’d either love it or hate it.”  
“Ohhh, fuck…”  
“You see, me, I figured you’d love it, since boys like you are always finding new and inventive ways to fuck around with your dicks. Boys and their toys, you know?”  
Harkness moaned again, legs shaking and sweat beading on his forehead; like Pamela, the vine was relentless.  
“Ever done this before?”  
“N-no, Dr. Isley…” he whined.  
“But you do love it, don’t you?”  
“Fuck yes, Dr. Isley,” Harkness ground out. “It hurts like goddamn holy hell… and I love it.”  
“Slightly disappointing, but…” Pamela shrugged. “I can’t say I’m surprised. But then, this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Penetration?”  
“Not… exactly, Dr. Isley,” he said, head dropping and eyelids drooping.  
“Nonetheless,” Pamela chuckled, “I’d say it was about time a woman fucked you back.”  
“I wanted you… Dr. Isley,” Harkness tried to look into her eyes; she tossed her head.  
“Pff,” she scoffed. “Only in your dreams.”  
“Will be… now… Dr. Isley.”  
“Besides, you should be grateful that I’ve been so generous. You best thank me,” she said, squeezing his cheeks; he puckered his lips to kiss her hand, so she let go to strike him again. Harkness grunted as his head rocked to the side, licking his rapidly swelling lip.  
“Thank you… Dr. Isley.”  
“There’s a good, stupid, pathetic, repulsive, weak little man,” Pamela smiled, gritting her teeth; Harkness’ hips trembled and thrusted.  
“Ohh fuck,” Harkness gasped, looking at her. “May I-”  
“May you what?” Pamela said, crossing her arms.  
“May I come, Dr. Isley?”  
“I’m no expert, but that seems pathetically fast,” Pamela smirked, tilting her head as she watched him struggle.  
“Hard to hold on. Too hot…”  
“Absolutely worthless,” she sneered. “Aren’t you?”  
“Yes, Dr. Isley.”  
“You’re scum. You realise that, don’t you?”  
“Yes, Dr. Isley…” he ran his eyes up her body hungrily. “A-are you… going to…?”  
Pamela tilted her head; her curtain of red hair tipped over one shoulder. “What?”  
“D-do you want me to...?”  
Harkness looked down at the lush red triangle of pubic hair currently situated directly in front of his face; Pamela narrowed her eyes. Again, the vine around his neck briefly tightened and he gaped like a fish out of water.  
“Tell me - do you know anything about pleasing a woman?”  
“Well… I…”  
“Have you ever done anything more than simply stick your dick in and thrust until you come?”  
Harkness swallowed and dropped his head.  
“Answer me, boy.”  
“No, Dr. Isley.”  
“That’s all that sex is to you, isn’t it? You convince a woman to stick your dick in her, then you come, and that’s it. I bet you have no idea what women do together, do you?”  
“No, Dr. Isley.”  
“You simply can’t picture sex without a dick involved. The concept is incomprehensible to you.”  
“Yes, Dr. Isley…” his voice was barely a whisper.  
“Pathetic.”  
Harkness looked up at her hopefully. “Will you teach me, Dr. Isley?”  
Pamela laughed. “Never. Apart from you being the completely wrong gender, there is absolutely nothing about you that I like,” glaring into his eyes, she pressed her fingers into his forehead and pushed back his head; he panted feverishly and stared at her in awe. “Even killing you would not arouse me, much like crushing a particularly loathsome bug. You. Sicken. Me.”

“Oh God,” Harkness keened, veins popping on his forehead as he panted with the effort of holding back; his voice ran ragged, and he was almost in tears. “You’re right, Dr. Isley. I’m worthless. Pathetic. Scum of the Earth… and completely useless in the sack.”  
“Mm,” Pamela smiled genuinely, lighting up the room. “There’s a good boy.”  
Harkness exhaled a shaky breath. “I don’t deserve it. But… please may I come, Dr. Isley?”  
“Oh, if you must,” Pamela said, immediately bored; beckoning the vine back and turning away from him. The vine yanked out in one movement, causing Harkness to tip his head back in one final moan as painful release found his body; Pamela grimaced and twitched her head upward as he started to come.  
“Get out. You’re disgusting.”  
At her word, the vines tossed Harkness from the room and into the hallway; he landed gracelessly on the floor with his pants down, covered with his own semen. The vines let him go and whipped back into the greenhouse, slamming the door behind them and sweeping branches right up against the glass to bar any further entry. Harkness grunted and rested his head against the glass, trying to catch his breath.  
“If you disturb my sleep again,” Pamela called out, laughing,“I’ll turn your cock into a toadstool.”  
Harkness groaned, wincing in pain whenever he moved. “Fuck,” he murmured. “Fuckin’ hell.”

As fate would have it, Slade Wilson came strolling up the same hallway in his direction. Though Slade had seen Harkness’ dick plenty of times before, he still attempted to put himself back together before he got there.  
“That you, George?”  
“Yeah Slade, it’s me,” Harkness hissing between his teeth as he shoved his dick back into his pants and zipped up. “When’d you get out?”  
“Same time you did; locks on these doors are pathetic.” Slade sniffed. “Ya smell like a damn locker room, George. The fuck are ya doin’ out here?”  
“Well, mate,” Harkness laughed. “Don’t get too jealous, but I’ve been - I’ve just been fucked.”  
“The hell ya talkin’ about?”  
“Poison Ivy.”  
Slade shrugged. “What about her?”  
“She just had her way with me,” Harkness said, waggling his eyebrows up and down. Slade picked his teeth with a thumbnail, unimpressed.  
“Uh-huh. Jerkin’ off outside some poor girl’s room again, huh?”  
“What? No - I’m tellin’ ya, she did this to me.”  
“Sure, George,” Slade gave a long-suffering sigh. “What the fuck ever.”  
“No - it happened! Look at my lip - she hit me. Look!” Harkness pointed at his face; Slade squinted at it.  
“Now that part I believe,” he nodded. “But Isley’s a lesbian, kid. She wouldn’t go for ya if she’d been shot and ya had the only plug for the hole.”  
“But -”  
Slade turned away. “Clean yerself up, ya fuckin’ animal.”  
“Fuck man, but it was so hot...” Harkness sighed, tilting his head up.  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
“Destroyed by a naked plant goddess,” Harkness stared at the ceiling. “It’s the stuff wet dreams are made of.”  
“Sure is,” Slade grinned. “Can’t prove it though, can ya?”  
“No,” Harkness, grumbling, pulled himself back together. “No one’s gonna fuckin’ believe me,” he muttered.  
“No reason why they should,” Slade scoffed. “George Harkness is a damn liar and everyone knows it.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Harkness said, reaching out one hand to Slade. “Help me up, will ya?”  
“Fuck no,” Slade snorted. “I know where that hand’s been.”  
“Arsehole,” Harkness sniggered, wiping his hands on his pants then running them through his hair. “God, what a woman.”  
“Ya should stay away from that one. For self-preservation, if nuthin’ else.”  
“Pamela,” Harkness murmured, savouring the word as he licked his busted lip. “I’d crawl over broken glass if she told me to.”  
“She also said she’d kill ya, remember? Ya some kinda masochist?”  
Harkness grinned as he hauled himself to his feet. “Little bit.”  
“Anyway, I was lookin’ for ya. Waller wants to see us.”  
“The fuck is it about?”  
“Dunno yet, but she’s pissed.”  
“Figures. Let’s go, then.”  
As they walked, Harkness let out a deep exhale; Slade glanced at him and shook his head.  
“Makin’ up stories about Poison Ivy; fuck. You’re hopeless, you know that?”  
“Yeah, Slade,” Harkness said, smiling. “I’m pathetic.”


End file.
